FLCL: You know reality sucks when
by Randomicity
Summary: Okay, my previous summary was crap. All I'm saying is that this is my first attempt at FLCL, and I'm thoroughly enjoying it. Please REVIEW, as I need thoughts, because this one's gonna be looooong...
1. Three seconds

_**Predictability...**_

_**It's everywhere, now.**_

The City has fallen silent, once again, sinking back into the void somewhere between Life and Death, but never really fulfilling one of the two. The river still runs, polluted with runamuck of places we'd never go, the lights in the windows seem to blaze on suddenly, and then fade as if in some harmony, giving light to the dark streets below, always the same. The businesses never move, in the early hours of morning, where I like to sit on the roof and try to see over the fog that's engulfed us all, I sometimes like to count the people as they go by. Always in dark suits, ties, carrying briefcases, destined off to nowhere but here, home. Mabase.

The City that doesn't exist. Just like any other city you've come across with your bright lights, strip bars, and greasy drive-though stops, we've got them. Just like any other city's problems, we've got those, too. Little kids swinging in the park, check. Angry mother screaming at them to come home, check. Little white terrier yapping continually at her heels as she does this, check.

That was the only interesting thing I've seen happen in a month. It might seem unbelievable, but you've heard me say this many times before, I'm sure. You _know_ who I am, my name is Taku Nandaba, sometimes called Takkun by someone older than myself, or a pissed-off teacher who can't seem to understand why I'm not paying attention.

I can tell them why, but of course, they'd only laugh at me. Because my response would be that an alien with violently pink hair came cascading down from somewhere in space, singlehandedly wrecked my Life, the City, and the old Medical Mechanica factory that now stands dormant at the end of town, and then left on a yellow vespa of equally violent color, leaving a trail of wreckage in her wake, and not all of it physical.

_Grow up, Takkun._

_Those_ happened to be Minamori's last words to me as she left this place, some three years before. She said it was because she couldn't take the claustrophobia anymore. She said that she hated being locked away inside of her own Life, _a glitch in the timeline_, were her exact words. She told me that, if I ever left, to come find her, and we could stay together. The old Takkun had thought of this as insanity, as something perverted and probably hinting at sex, the kind of stuff that would make the old Takkun's face catch fire. The kind of stuff that he'd _dream_ about, night after night, until the point where he nearly committed suicide while finally working up the nerve to admit...

Damn, had he ever _admitted._

That was also the 2nd to last time he'd ever seen her, again.

It was three years ago, and it was about six o' clock in the evening. There was a carnival in-town, and he was a total wreck from Haruko's departure. The only things existed in the world seemed to be a blue Rickenbacker guitar, and his bedroom window. How he would _stare_, for _hours,_ his heart leaping at every time he saw a shooting star, every time a star looked even the _least_ bit suspicious...

They say kids heal quickly, but unfortunately for him, he wasn't a kid, anymore. Not since three seconds tore every bit of childhood screaming from his body.

_You're just a kid, Takkun..._

God-_Damn_ it, those words had cut like knives. So Takkun, having absolutely nothing to do, decided to visit the fair, just to look-see. To try and lose himself in the whirling neon lights, the sick-sweet smell of cotton candy, and the cheap popcorn that it was the tradition to eat so much of it you vomited.

He smiled, he remembered doing that with...

Ah, Hell...Here it goes, again.

Takkun stood at the gates to the carnival, tickets dangling idly from his hands, deciding now if he even wanted to go in, or not. It _looked_ fun, sure enough, I mean, the food was awful, the rides were enough to force your head to unscrew, and the music blaring through the speakers would make the deaf complain, but that's the reason _why_ you come, right? To lose yourself, to truly get an invitation to _ride_.

He had the goddamned invitation, he just had to _show up_.

So he went, he went through the gates, and spent four hours in there, for absolutely no reason at all, he screamed on the rides, he screamed at the vendors, he screamed at the people in line. He didn't know why, he was just trying to fill the void that had been in his chest for the past two years, since Haruko had left, since his entire Life had been righted, back into predictability, back to where everything was so...So _right_. Back to square one, the infinitely long, infinitely lame, square _one._

_Did I want to go back?_

He can ask himself that, now, but it never works. It never seems to want to answer him, as if that's something he must find out solely for himself, a quest of self-fulfillment beyond the foggy gates of the City, into the world beyond, and _up_ from that world, lies...

Insanity, the perfect medicine for Mabase, also the very thing that could destroy it.

He grinned at the thought. _If only..._

Takkun has long since died, having given rise to Taku, the newer, older, more cynical version of himself, equipped with a set of battered emotions, a guitar, and a listless, endlessly repetitive present.

Both could remember the night when Takkun had died.

The carnival was winding down, more people off the rides, less sounds of retching and tears, more drifters off towards home, pillows, and the soft blue glow of the T.V. Takkun wasn't one of them, though. In trying to lose himself, he'd somehow screwed up, and managed to become addicted. He rode every attraction as if it were his last, determined to live it to the maximum, as if he would die within the next ten seconds, and the last memory of himself would be his arms spread to the sky, tears blurring his vision and the wind smashing against his head amongst the screams of...

_Yaaaaaaah!!!_

_Something out a freelance comic, I'm sure. _That was from the _new_ Takkun, the one called Taku, who simply decided not to do such things anymore.

Takkun wasn't _about_ to die, not by a long shot, but he was about to _die_.

He saw Minamori a second later, and his guts froze. He stood there, mouth open, goggle-eyed. Stupid red cap tilted off his head, windswept hair and teary-eyed, as if the person in question was dancing naked in front of him.

_Only in his dreams, of course._

Minamori was trudging through the fairground, her eyes completely denying the expression of vigor in her face. Her eyes were almost the same as Takkun's. They held nothing noticeable, they only surveyed everything in front of them, analyzed it silently, and projected accordingly. It was as if her _eyes_ ran her body, now, instead of her brain.

Takkun knew that feeling, he knew that expression. He knew exactly how she felt...

Only she didn't know how _he_ felt. As in about _her._

So this is what happened. All twenty minutes of the ending of Takkun's Life, and the beginning of the rest of it, as mundane and eventless as it is.

Takkun walked towards her, waving, and she smiled at him in return. He spoke, and his voice sounded to him as if it were coming from the bottom if a well.

"Hey, Minamori."

She surveyed him quietly. "Hi, Takkun."

He stood by her for a moment, and she didn't go anywhere. So he kicked his feet in the dirt, and said, "Whatcha' doin?"

Her look turned sour, and her tone was sarcastic as it usually was. "Standing here, how about _you?"_

His smiled flickered for a moment, and then came into being again. "About the same." He glanced at the now-still rides, and the people leaving through the gates. "I didn't know you were here. I would've found you if I'd known."

Minamori shrugged. "Okay. Maybe next time."

_But there never was one, was there, Takkun?_

_Takkun gestured towards the gates, suggesting that they should go. Minamori shrugged indifferently, and the began to leave together, Takkun making careful sure to stay in step with her. They walked like that for several minutes, talking about anything, from cars to school to annoying teachers they knew or shared..._

He made her laugh a few times, he loved it when she laughed. Her entire face lit up, and it looked so very _alive._ It was a startling contrast to the serene expression she usually wore, always pondering, but never speaking a word.

_Her favorite phrase was "It's no big deal." Do you remember that, Takkun?_

Damn right he did. Damn right, he'll never forget. Because what she said next slammed the breath out of him as effectively as a guitar.

"I'm leaving Tomorrow, Takkun." Minamori looked up at him, and held his gaze. "I'm leaving Mabase to live with some friends of mine, since my parents are—" Her voice trailed off, and she shrugged. Takkun was sure that if he asked her why, he'd get the same old response. _"It's no big deal."_

So he didn't ask her, he merely nodded. "I hope I see you again, then." He dropped his gaze away from her eyes, missing their widening, and said almost in a whisper. "I think I'll miss you, too."

She lifted his head, and stared directly into his eyes, as if searching for some light at the long end of a tunnel, and then smiled softly. "It's fine, Takkun. If you leave soon, you can come stay with me." Her face showed no color, no embarrassment. "It's better we stay together, now, huh?" She sighed. "We're all we've got."

_Here we are at the end of the world..._

Takkun nodded, willing himself not to cry as she stared at him, and smiled shakily. "Okay." His voice was still a whisper, and sound barely emerged from his lips. He swallowed, nodded again, and said louder, "Okay."

Minamori dropped her hand from his face, and looked for a long moment into his eyes, again. Taku stared back until he felt that they would become a black hole, an endless void of all the emotion she so determinedly suppressed, and he drew away, embarrassed.

"What's the matter?" Minamori's voice was cool, and questioning. Takkun misread it as longing and hurt, and he reacted accordingly.

"I...I—Uh." His face colored, his brow sweat, and Minamori continued staring at him, her face still that cool-but-questioning look, until she attained one of dawning comprehension.

"You're going to miss me, aren't you?"

_More than you will ever know, now._

_He continued staring at her, stuttering beneath her gaze and his baseball cap, until he blurted out, in one anguished barrage of emotion._

"_I love you, Minamori!"_

_Poor bastard._

She stared at him in silence, her eyes reflecting more than just the moon, shining underneath the streetlight that shrouded them both, and she said.

"Grow up, Takkun."

And, just like that, in three _seconds_, he died.

She walked inside home with a parting, backward wave, until the door shut, leaving him out there, amidst in his own torrent of emotion.

Takkun soon left afterwards, after he remembered how to walk. He _didn't_ see her face at the window, he _didn't_ hear her sobs behind the glass...

He had eyes only for himself.

So that's it, then. There you have it, that's how Takkun ceased to exist, and Taku came to be, all in the space of a few seconds. It's funny how quickly things can change, most people just up and deal with it, but in a city where nothing ever happens...

It takes one _Hell_ of a long time...

He was leaving. Tomorrow. Just as the others had done.


	2. Interstate Love Songs

**Okay, this is my first try at an FLCL fic. I love the show, so I figured why the Hell not...**

**Of course, I don't own it.  
Thanks!!**

_**DEE-DEET! DEE-DEET! DEE-DEET!**_

The alarm clock screamed in his ear. Something that he hadn't used since his graduation from High School, and his taking over the bakery that his grandfather had owned, prior to his death. Like his friends, Taku didn't know where his father was, or even what his last words were. All that remained of him were only a belt, a few shirts, and a rather tattered lottery ticket.

It had been a winner. Taku had decided to use the money for something useful, for once. He decided to invest his savings into an account, and let the money flourish, just as his grandfather had advised him to. Even if the old man was crazy, he _still_ was incredibly smart. Taku felt detached from all that, now. The past was the past—though he knew he didn't truly believe that—and it was nearly time to shed it like a second skin, to leave this city, once and for all.

Bye bye, Mabase.

So after three dozen sleepless nights, just as much packing, and several attempts to make contact with his friends—none were fruitful—he was finally ready (and able) To kiss this City goodbye. He gone over it for weeks in his head, but he'd always been a procrastinator._ That_ was something that Taku _and_ Takkun shared undoubtedly, the ability to wait, the ability to _keep_ waiting, and the uncanny ability to do absolutely nothing, at all.

_It's funny, the City where nothing ever happens is about to be uprooted by the person whom everyone though would never leave._

He didn't have to question his reasoning, he just _knew_, somehow, that everyone thought poor little Takkun would be trapped forever within Mabase's jaws. That he'd be the one to actually uphold the title "The City Where Nothing Ever Happens" and remain a prisoner of himself and the miserable place for the rest of time, he guessed. He was completely ready to go, fully packed, he could almost _feel_ the energy radiating off him, like a burning heat so powerful it could melt the paint from the walls. Today would mark a new chapter in the Life of Taku Nandaba, and the only thing he had to do was...

Get the Hell out of bed...

What had he been _thinking_ at setting his alarm for 3 AM? His mind must've been slipping off like the fog sometimes does from the outskirts of the City. Sometimes, if it recedes enough, there's _just_ enough room to see the world outside, a simple glance that kept most of the townsfolk going, and out of the asylum. One glance was all it took for them, perhaps, because they were fine with their lives, he supposed. Maybe they _wanted_ to stay. Mabase had another name to it, and that name was simply four letters, but meant more than anything else in the world to them.

That name was _home._

_To them, maybe, but not to me._

Taku was ready to do the one thing that Takkun could not. He was ready to do the single, most important function listed in the process list of your average human being.

He was ready to _grow up._

He'd showered, dressed, eaten something quickly, and now stood at his front door, staring at the house, his vespa purring softly beside him in the still-dark night. Daylight would not come for several hours, but that was fine, despite his tiredness, the fog was much easier to deal with at night. With the rest of his life on his back, the FOR SALE sign securely planted in his front yard, and his eyes fastened on nothing but the road in front of him, he kicked the engine into life, and drove off.

Maybe it would take _years_, but he _would_ find them. His friends, the remnants of his past, the only thing that still tethered him to this Godforsaken place, and his only means of existence, now.

He'd been deluding himself for so long, he'd actually _forgotten_ what the _truth_ was...But lucky for him, he decided to make his own. In the City where nothing ever happens, predictability is secure, boredom is quintessential, there is only _one_ flaw in this system, and Taku found it, more by accident than on purpose.

Whenever something _did_ change, it was _huge_, the City was brilliant at keeping everything in place, in order, under the watchful eye of regularity. But when something changed, due to the City being so occupied keeping everything the _same_, it was positively _awful_ at restraining that single change.

And Taku rode that change all the way to the edge of the City, up to the iron gates. The rest of Mabase was silent, it's inhabitants still sleeping soundly, and Taku was beheld by no one but the windows which glittered eerily under the moon, which was lighting the fog an almost neon white.

Taku grinned, one that would do Haruko justice, adjusted his visor once again over his eyes, and shot forwards into the void. The engine roared in his ears, screaming of triumph and rage at the barrier that it had come up against, Taku's eyes began to water, his fingers grew icy cold upon the handlebars, and his vision began to go with the beginning of a roaring in his head.

_What the Hell?_

It was only _fog_, it shouldn't be doing this! The mental defenses Taku had mounted in anticipation of this day were crumbling rapidly, and the fog grew even colder. The roaring in his head grew louder, as if the City was aware of what he was trying to do. He lifted his head to see where he was going, and then...

_He saw her._

_Just a little bit taller than before, hair longer, vest slightly dirty, and a different guitar was slung over her shoulder. She stood only three or four feet in front of him, poised to swing, and he lowered his head, shut his eyes and..._

_WHAMM!!!_

With an almighty crash, he collided with the sign that marked the end of Mabase and the beginning of the rest of the world. He flew from the seat as if propelled by rockets, flew several feet through the air, and smashed into a nearby tree, which then showered him in acorns, most of them dead.

"Damn..." He sat up, his vision still swimming and head nearly splitting open from the ache, and he _laughed._ A maniacal laugh escaped his lips, followed by another, which lead to several more, until he was rolling across the ground, clutching his sides and screaming with joy. His head hurt like Hell, his hands were nearly frozen solid, and his mind was buzzing like a snowy television channel, but he was _out. He was free! FREE OF MABASE!!_

He leapt up from the ground, ignoring his protesting body, and began dancing madly around in a circle, laughing insanely. He reached into his back pocket, withdrew a can of black spraypaint, and again the Haruko-esque grin became evident upon his face. By the light of the full moon, he looked dangerously insane. The can was shaken up, and he approached the sign, running his fingers over the stone, feeling the decades of people that had come, and those strong enough to go again. Some had even written their names upon it, and he squinted in the light to read.

**MABASE SUX MEMORIAL! LEAVE NAME...**

**Tommy- 12/22/1987  
Suze- 6/24/1990**

**Sashimi- 7/02/2000**

**Gaku- 7/02/2000**

He read and re-read the last two for a moment, blinking in surprise. His friends had left, yes, but he hadn't though they'd feel the same way he did about it. He looked alongside their names, and engraved beside them were the words. "_Taku, if you don't leave soon, we'll come get you."_ He laughed again at that, not the laugh of an escaped convict, but a simple laugh, one full of warmth and regret, warmth for his friends care for him, and the regret of not having left with them...

But Taku never recalled that memory, only Takkun did, and he was dead. He continued reading, seeing only two other names, as his brother and Mamimmi were nowhere in sight, and his breath froze at the last one.

It belonged to none other than Haruko Haruhara, herself.  
H. Haruhara-**10-21-2005**

The name seemed to knock him senseless for a moment. This marked the day Haruko had left him, and the City far behind. Minamori had left soon after, only three years ago, and Haruko left about five, so...

_This is accurate..._ He thought. _This is when she left..._

He thought for a moment, scrutinizing the rock as if it might speak up and give him the whereabouts of her and his two friends. Unfortunately, this was _not _Harry Potter—of which he was actually a fan—so he withdrew the can of spraypaint from his pocket, and layered the sign with paint until it read.

_**Mabase**_

"_**The City Where Anything Can Happen."**_

And, with Taku's adjustment.

_**Mabase**_

"_**The City Where Nothing Ever Happens."**_

He sped away, then, his grin wide enough to swallow the moon.

**TWO DAYS LATER**

_Over the river and through the woods, to the middle of nowhere I go._ Haruko Haruhara chanted the song through gritted teeth, bent over the handlebars of her neon yellow vespa, weaving through traffic, fiddling through the songs on her Ipod _(I've got to get this tune outta my head!)_ All while traveling about 86 MPH on the highway. Despite her current preoccupation, she was able to drive quite peacefully, without any collisions whatsoever.

Given the other cars decide to move out of the way.

She vaulted past several minivans, a flipped-over Toyota, and someone's SUV that was gonna need a paint job, and came into contact with the fog that blanketed Mabase. Unlike Taku, the fog drew back when Haruko passed, or rather _tore_, through it, so her visibility was still completely intact. She rocketed through the street, straight through the center of town, passing several people at a park that were little more than flesh-colored blurs, ignoring their shouts and obscenities, saw her destination and slammed on her brakes.

She had still about four-hundred feet to go.

_**SCREEEEEEEEE! EEE-EEE-EEEE!**_

She swerved left, to the right, avoided a small white terrier and a child's plastic ball, narrowly avoided a fire hydrant, ran _over_ a stop sign, and cleared the speedometer put in place by the police at a cool 21.

She had stopped because she simply couldn't _believe_ what she was seeing. There was the bakery, exactly as she remembered it, only there was no wash hanging off the second-story balcony, there was no smell of fresh bread being baked from somewhere inside, there was no tools scattered around the front yard—most of those had been hers, she'd just left them there—and most of all, there was no Takkun.

There was nobody. The building looked as if it had been abandoned. Haruko sat back on her seat, pushed her goggles up from her eyes, and surveyed the building apprehensively, lest Takkun was about to come flying off the roof, trying to smash her head in with a guitar, or his father was watching her through a second-story window.

"Huh?" She scratched her head, shaking her hair out, got off the vespa, and walked up to the house, bemused.

The shades were drawn and all was silent. The place _really_ looked weird. She looked through the peephole in the front door, and saw nothing but darkness. Shrugging, she tried the doorknob, and found it locked.

_Are they dead? On they on vacation? Have they all been committed? What?_

She tried the knob again, got the same results, and shrugged off her guitar. Takkun was foolish to think that a locked door was enough to stop _her._

She reduced the door to a pile of matchsticks, and an alarm began to blare from somewhere inside the house.

"Oops." She strolled easily over the door, taking her time to look around the place. The lights were off, there was no noise, and the place smelled _stale_, as if it hadn't been opened for awhile.

"What the _Hell?" _She said aloud, as the stood, hands on hips, looking in at what once was Takkun's living room. She strolled up the steps—also dark—into what was Takkun's room, grinning familiarly as she pushed open the door, saying—

"_Taaaaaaakuuu—"_

"_Huh?"_ She stood in the doorway, dumbstruck. The room was bare, and it looked as if everything had been taken recently, as their were still marks on the floor from where it had been, not too long ago.

She sighed. Either this was a _really_ elaborate joke, or—

It'd finally happened. The unthinkable, something she thought _she'd_ actually be the reason for, that _she'd_ be the cause of, and _she'd_ be the one steering the rest of his life, just as she had his childhood.

She'd done a bad job, and she knew that. She figured it was time to make up for it, but...

Takkun wasn't around, anymore. She glanced around the room again, imagining it full of his stuff as if it had been yesterday. The guitar, the dresser overflowing with clothes—her fault—The broken lamp—her fault—the nacho-cheese flavored crackers and the pizza slices buried underneath the sheets of the top bunk...

Again, her fault.

She lifted her head from her chest, oblivious to the tears—of joy—running down her face, and she smiled. Not a maniacal smile, not the one that was usually followed with the explosions of giant robots of the grand-slamming of a baseball big enough to crush a city, but an honest-to-God, completely and totally realistic and heartfelt _smile_.

She was happy Takkun had finally left. It was about damned time. She laughed softly, realizing how much pain she'd have to put him through once she found him. She _hated_ playing hide-and-seek, even as a _child_, she'd hated the game. And now she was playing it with the only one that meant a damn to her on this entire freaking _planet._

Atomsk was gone, she only had Takkun, now.

The slow, maniacal grin crept over her face. The kind that could make any man swoon, and could make Takkun run madly for cover. She'd have to pay him back for leaving. She'd promise him _pain_.

That sentence occurred to her as she mounted her vespa, again.  
Takkun _liked_ her kind of pain...Haruko sped free of the City, leaving it far behind.

She'd seen Takkun's name on the sign. She placed beside it a death warrant, with _her_ as the bounty hunter. Like she'd said earlier, Takkun _liked_ her kind of pain.

She pulled out of her pocket later a small device she'd so lovingly christened her "Ta-tracker" And laughed.

If they were gonna play _hide and seek_, of all things, he _couldn't_ expect her to play fair.

_**1st Person—Taku**_

**Well, I've escaped from Mabase.** I feel like I've learned to fly, or something. You really don't realize how much the City takes out of the world 'till you're rushing down some highway—completely deserted, as it was a few hundred miles out of the way—at 7:00 in the afternoon, and the sun looks like it sets the sky on fire. The air is almost freezing, but I didn't care. Everything was so _clear_, I could look out to my right and see literally for _miles_. It was as if God had gotten a giant paintbrush and smeared it across a few hundred thousand feet of canvas sky. The sky wasn't white, though, it didn't seem papery, like the sky back home on days when the clouds rolled in and the fog made it look almost suffocating. _This_ sky was clearly beautiful, it made me think of the times when Haruko was around, and Mamimi would spend _hours _latched onto my neck, whispering in my ear about everything. The days when to live was everything, before I started to worry about stupid stuff, like getting out of Mabase, Haruko leaving me behind...

And, of course, the days before I fell madly in love with a complete and total psychopath. Haruko rejected me, as you know. I spent the _longest_ time as a bitter wreck, not quite capable of working up the nerve for suicide, and instead falling in love again—or what I told myself was love—with Eri Minamori.

I grinned over the handlebars, my hair flying somewhere behind me. I felt so _alive_, so vividly _alive_, that, if I kept moving at this speed, I'd be able to separate myself from the older me. To fully separate Takkun and Taku, to completely forget about all the miserable things that I'd worried over while I was a kid, and welcome this bright new future with a new, lightened heart.

My speed pushed two hundred, now. I couldn't see, couldn't hear, didn't care. I _had_ to keep going. I _had_ to find them...

I really had no other choice, did I? I'd left Mabase, finally, it's not like I had anything _better_ to do...

I kept driving, moving at speeds that even _Haruko_ would hesitate to push. My body felt like jelly, and I could almost _feel_ the Takkun slipping away from me now, underneath the blazing sky like something out of a LSD-induced dream.

_The signs were waving on the side of the road._ I tilted my head behind me, not believing what I saw, and turned around just in time to see a wall of steel completely block out my vision.

_I should have never turned around._ I thought, and then I lost consciousness.

**1st Person**

_**Today is the first day of the rest of our lives!**_So says the radio DJ. They're nothing more than puppet heads on a stick, really. What makes me wonder is how everyone can be so _upbeat_. Everyone's so _happy_, like there isn't an insane amount of murder and death and killing in the world. I mean, if you care to open your eyes and ignore plastered-on smiles of the people behind the Starbucks counters, the Wal-Mart Layaway Desk, and the Gas Station clerks, you realize that everything they look at you with is nothing more than a huge facade.

I sound depressed, and I probably am. But ever since leaving Mabase I've realized just how terrible everything really is. Just down the street from me someones dying. I wake up in the middle of the night screaming, for fear that somebody's gonna come and hunt me down. One of those lunatics from the Medical Mechanica factory that shut down shortly after I left. Mabase was little more than a prison, but prison though it was, it was _safe_. You didn't hear your neighbors scream at their spouses in loud voices at 3AM, you never saw the child crying in his backyard because he realized his father was a drunken idiot and couldn't drive. Everything was so _simple_ in Mabase. Everything was so...Just so _predictable._

Taku had said that. He said that was one of the reasons he hated that place. One of the reasons he was _dying_ to get out, one of the reasons he positively _loathed_ the City, and every inch of ground it covered.

Poor Taku, if only he was around now to find her. She remembered her last words to him, something that just came out of the spur of the moment. One of those momentary bursts of sarcasm she was so good at getting.

_At least, back then. When her life wasn't in complete and total ruin._

Minamori Eri reached up and touched the bruises across the side of her face. There were five of them there, all in a small line, and if a stream of marbles had been flung at the side of her head.

Or her husband had smashed his fist into her face, cursing again, _drunk_ again, calling her a worthless everything-you-can-imagine. Everything and the kitchen sink...Except for _human_ _being._ So she was leaving tonight. She'd leave the bastard in his bed, from _her_ couch, and let poor prick moan and cry over her, at least until he got too drunk to notice her gone, and went out whoring again, coming back sweaty and smelling of someone else's perfume.

His shadow frightened her, as she wasn't paying attention.

He came behind her slowly, staring at her through bloodshot eyes, his clothing rumpled and stained, breathing heavily, washing her with his whiskey breath.

"**Whereere yu gone, _bitch?" _**

_It was actually funny, in a sick way. Of all the words in that sentence, the only one he'd pronounced correctly was __bitch_. He must'vebeen practicing that one for awhile, with several other girlfriends of his. He thought he ruled the world, he did, he thought he had everything in the _palm of his hand_.

He kept staring at her, he didn't move, and finally he said, louder.

"**_Where you GONE, BITCH!?" _**

_His finger jabbed wildly in the air as he yelled, his face turning purple, several veins bulging out from the front of his skull as his voice increased. Finally, he snapped._

He grabbed Minamori by her hair, seizing the front of his blouse as he did so, tearing it violently in half as he threw her to the floor. He stood above her, face livid, eyes glowing insanely in the light from the window, and by the light of the moon he looked deadly.

_He is deadly. I was stupid not to've seen this, but I guess after Takkun never followed me I kind of gave up..._

She remembered her last words. Oh, did she ever _remember_...

"_Grow up, Takkun."_ Those were the words that lead solidly to the rest of her life. And by the time she realized Takkun had been _serious_, it was by far, _much_ too late to do anything. So she'd run crying into his arms, only to be put through four months of hell in marriage. She would have divorced him, she _wanted_ to divorce him, but she was also _terrified_ if what he might do. Her downcast lookout of the world, and her reoccurring quote "It's no big deal" Had lead to her virtual imprisonment within the jaws of this low-life madman, with more _TESTOSTERONE_ in his veins than _BLOOD!_

He spat on her, while she cried silently, and trudged off towards the stairs, grumbling. "_Shut up and go cook me a meal."_

_Thud-shush, Thud-shush, his slippers dragged across the floor as he went upstairs._

No.

_Thud-shush, Thud-shush. _

No!

_NO!_ Eri hadn't realized she had screamed it at him until he turned around, bloodshot eyes wide.  
"_What_ did ya say, _bitch?"_

_She stood there, on the brink of revolution. The passageway from one Hell to another, escape just inches from her fingertips..._

Dare she take it?

_Hell, yeah._

"No!" Minamori yelled, and she sprung up from the floor, crashing her fist into his chin with all the force she could muster. His head snapped back with a jagged _crack!_ And she could read the expression in his eyes in the white light. Surprise. He lurched backwards, swinging his fist out towards her in hopes of connection, and she dodged around it easily. She'd spent a long time weaving around drunken fistfalls, and was no novice at getting out of a tight spot. He stumbled slowly, as if in a swimming pool, and she lunged out at him, raking her nails down his face, and he screamed, lunging forwards as she struck him, knife in his hands.

"YOU'RE GONNA DIE, _BITCH!"_

She laughed, then, she _laughed_, and she saw the knife a moment too late, as it plunged deeply into her chest as he fell.

_Red...Cold...Hot...Warmth everywhere._

How she desperately wanted to sleep.

_You must not sleep_.

She stood up, removed the knife from her chest to find no wound. It had gotten the long area of her dress, beneath the armpit, missing her body entirely.

_But...Why is it so warm? Why am I so cold?_

She looked down, and found herself covered in blood that was not her own. Her _husband_ lay on the ground at her feet, his eyes registering faint shock as his eyes glassed over, his blood flowing much too rapidly from the alcohol that was so stealthily preventing his platelets from sealing the wound.

_Idiot._ The thought struck her unbidden, a manifestation of rage and sheer anger. She shivered, her body convulsing with chills and sickness of what she had just done. She staggered over to the couch, as if drunk, and sat down, her head falling like a lead weight into her hands.

She sat there, and let herself cry.

_1_**st Person—Taku Nandaba**

_Beep...Beep...Beep...Beep._

There was a metronome. It was the only sound I've heard for hours, how. My eyes hurt too much to open them, so I had to be content to sit here in the dark, and try to figure out where I am using some of my other senses. All I could gather about my surroundings is that I was lying down, somewhere, and there was a loud beeping in my ear. I could _hear_ nothing, _see_ nothing, and have had no social interaction besides myself for the past six hours.

_Maybe I've died and gone to Hell?_

I cracked a painful smile, and my lips felt as if they'd been baked in an oven. I tried to turn my head to the right, towards the beeping, my neck screamed, and I almost blacked out again.

_Okay...So movement's out of the question..._

The door opened, and a small voice said, somewhere close to my ear. _"Long time no see, Ta."_

My heart froze.  
_There's only one person whose ever called me that..._

If I could cry without screaming, I'm sure I'd be doing it, now. I couldn't open my eyes without passing out—I'd already tried—so all I could do was listen intently to that small voice, and the faint breath buzzing in my ear that belonged to a person I honestly believed I'd never see again.

_Haruko..._

And as if she could hear what I was thinking, she chuckled. "I _told_ you not to go so goddamned fast." I could see her above me, shaking her finger accusingly, but her eyes and that maniacal, razored grin completely denied the severity of her warning. If there was any to begin with, anyway.

I heard a sigh, and a sound of what was like a chair being dragged across the floor. There was a warmth on my chest, and she said, somewhere below me, now, "You_ really_ have grown, Ta. You've screwed yourself up something _fierce_, too."

She chuckled, again, and was silent for a moment. "You've still got my Rickenbacker, I see." She laughed. "Does it still play for you?"

I grunted noncommittally, hoping that would serve as a reply. She spoke again, softer, this time.

"_I've got to go, soon. I'm still on the run from Medical Mechanica." _She snickered at her words.. "Although we both know they'll never catch either of us."

I barely made a sound in reply to this, as I was falling asleep. She slipped her hand beneath the blankets, gripped mine for a second, and slipped something into my pocket, with a whispered _goodbye._ She kissed me, then, and all the mental defense I put up against her ran swiftly away, as if quicksilver. I drifted off into sleep, and, somewhere inside me, the old _Takkun_ smiled happily, finally seeing Haruko again. I felt just like a kid, happy to have her with me, and I drifted slowly off into sleep.

I never actually felt her go.

She still loved me.


	3. Firestarter

_Smokin! **Smokin! **_

_I'm cookin' tonight, just to keep on tokin!_

_Smokin! **Smokin!**_

_**I feel all right, mama I'm not jokin, yeah**_**!**

S**moke rings adorned the air of the room, which smelled faintly of perfume, and old take-out.** Outside, the sun was pouring in through the slats of the window in slices, as if the shadows possessed blades that hacked the light into bits. The ceiling was dark, although it was still full daylight outside, and somewhere down the hall a radio was playing. She could hear it through the wall, despite her door being firmly shut and locked.

She took another drag, and blew it out, shutting her eyes. She could smell the mint somewhere within the cigarette as it burned, reminding her of something sweeter she once had, but now lost. It was afternoon outside, and the tip of the cigarette burned gold from the sunlight. The flame was nearly extinguished. She didn't have to open her eyes to know this.

Samejimi Mamimi was at home. She lay on her back, eyes shut, softly smoking. The music played faintly down the hall, while the faint chords of a guitar could be heard in-tune, alongside the blare of a feedback, clearly trying to outdo the other. She could tilt her head and look to one side, give her vision a moment to clear, and could see the camera.

_That camera..._

It rested on a stack of magazines that were more-or-less blanketed with pictures. Pictures of nothing in particular, really, mostly just some stuff of hers. A pack of cigarettes that was almost empty, a plate she should have probably thrown away—the smudge of barbecue looked something like the Virgin Mary—some random people walking the streets below her fifth-story apartment windows, a tree in the park, a sewer grate.

All things you'd expect from a photographer. Someone who views the world differently from you, and the rest of the world took it in stride. Which was also _good_, because, towards the bottom of the stack lay photos that would probably have her committed if someone cared to take any notice of them. Mamimi's eyes were closed, but she knew what the pictures showed. They were nothing but fragments, really. Just _pieces_, bits of unrelated odds and ends in photos that seemed like something a child would've taken. Nothing special, just like the place they had come from. The pictures meant nothing alone, they were as nondescript and amorphous as Mabase was, when put by itself. Before the MM facility belched gaunt smoke and pseudogods to wreak havoc upon the town.

But when together...They told a story. Not like a Love story, not one where the prince and princess fall madly in love and have wild animal sex in the bathroom stall of their local Target. Not one of these urban love stories, like the _Romeo and Juliet_ that was made to take place in the _barrio_, with a bunch of _ hermanos_ firing at one another, displaying inked portraits if affiliation on their bodies.

Nothing like that, nothing at all.

This particular story had nothing to do with her. She'd always been a bystander, sitting upon the deserted hulk of an unfinished building, watching the pretty lights in the sky as Takkun slammed a baseball big enough to grind them into little more than gumspots on a sidewalk back into wherever the Hell it had come from. Back when there was still meaning to her life. Back when they'd sit by the river for what seemed like an eternity, just _talking_. Just sitting and talking and hugging and smoking and basically not giving a damn.

She and Takkun spent many hours, there, once upon a time. The river had been a metaphor for her life. Always going with the flow. Always following the things ahead of her, wherever they may lead her to. She'd followed and followed and followed until...

She got stuck. She was stuck in Mabase while Tasuku went off to America to play baseball. She felt like nothing more than a stone, stuck in the muck that was Mabase, while unaware of the currents rushing beside her, she was too wrapped up in her own torrents of emotion to care about whatever else was happening. Even if that thing became the one thing she cared for most.

She forgot Takkun. She'd _ignored_ him. She'd used him as _her_ stone, her tether to some small piece of reality, until he, too, was fragmented away, just as she was.

Mamimi rolled over onto her bed, taking in a sigh as she faced the wall. She didn't want to think about Mabase. Anymore. She didn't want to think about all she'd lost, there. Tasuku...Takkun...Her _identity._ She'd lost everything, and then some. All she had now were mere photos, static images of what were the best and worst times of her life.

Photographs. Some of giant robots, some of the pink-haired girl that Takkun "Chief" Had always hung out with. Some of Minamori, Takkun's friend from school, some of the river, some of Takkun when he'd sprouted those cute ears...

And one, just _one_, of Tasuku. Takkun's older brother. The only one she ever loved, and probably ever will.

The cigarette dangled from her hand, off the side of the bed, now. She closed her eyes, the sun shining still golden through her shut eyelids, and dropped the cigarette.

There, the small amount of paper waited on the floor. It had been soaked with gasoline, as part of an earlier occasion.

She was what she was, she supposed. She was the _Firestarter._

**Taku Nandaba**

**Life in the hospital sucks completely and totally.** Since I've been a patient here, I've already gotten into four fights with various doctors, thrown a set of ginsu knives at a vision test poster on the wall, broken three computers, smashed a screen door as I tried to make an escape—unsuccessful, obviously—for the fifth consecutive time this week, and managed to get all the elevators stuck on the third floor.

Haruko'd told me how, before she left.

Now, one week, many bandages, and several bouts of swearing and _very_ loud rock music particularly aimed at a group of ornery old ladies later, the hospital staff were proud—and no-doubt happy—to announce that I was completely healed and free to go off on my own again. I wasn't very happy when I found out what they'd been lacing my drink with, though.

Thank God I don't pay anything. Poor Tasuku. America might have good Health care, but it was _expensive._ Enough stupid videos in my Current Issues class during my Senior Year had told me this. You didn't really _need_ to as me if I was dying of boredom to know it. The smart-assed nurse with the probably-fake red hair continually asked me this—all with the same smirk on her face—while I repeatedly told her that her mother hated her, and she was being cheated on by her boyfriend with his younger sister.

She didn't take too kindly to that.

Anyway, I've left the hospital, and I've really got no choice but to go and find Haruko, again. I wish she'd give me some hint of where she is. Normally I'd watch the news and follow the string of car crashes that have suddenly popped up across Northern Tokyo, or something, but since I haven't watched a TV in weeks, nor have picked up a newspaper in that long, I was kind of without a clue.

Reminds me of when I was a kid.

I used to sort of _drift_ through everything after Haruko left. Before, I was no better than a rabbit on speed, always following her around with that dumbstruck look on my face, practically drooling at the mouth. Don't get me wrong. I still love Haruko. A lot, a whole, _Helluva_ lot, but it's not puppy-love. It's not the love of a thirteen-year old kid, which is about the same emotionally as the love of a gerbil, but it's the actual thing, now. I loved Haruko. Plain and simple. I loved her because I could, I loved her because I _wanted to_, and a small bit because I knew, that if I didn't, I'd have really nothing better to do. I'd probably still be in Mabase, staring at the sky while taking Mr. Masako's order or "Swiss-on-salami-on-pastrami-on-rye." (Hold the mustard) Every day for the rest of my life. Which I _really_ would've hated, given I couldn't stand both the man and his choice of sandwiches.

Though one had nothing to do with the other.

I was about to leave, kicking my vespa to life, goggles securely fastened onto my face, when it hit me.

_Haruko's not the only one I'm looking for._

I'd been so _stupid!_ A minute ago I just said I _wasn't_ a kid anymore, and here I was, _following_ her around like...Like a kid.

I grinned slowly, realizing just how easily I could find all the others who lived in Mabase with me. Like I said, I'd been so _stupid..._

I strolled through the sliding doors of the emergency room, looking as if I knew what I was doing, again. The receptionist must've known me—or my reputation—because her eyes widened when she saw me, and her hand was gripping the phone a little too tightly.

Her knuckles were solidly white. Yeeowch. I strolled towards her, casually asked for a phone book, and was rewarded as she nearly _threw_ one at me.

I flipped through the pages like an addict, searching for the M's...


	4. Ninamori

**School had officially begun. As the last semester on my Senior Year starts up, I realize something.**

**It STILL sucks. Enjoy!**

**I don't own this show.**

**(I screwed up with the character names. Mamimi is correct, Takkun and Taku are actually the shortened form of Naotakun (Naota) And Minamori is actually Ninamori. With a "N")**

**Thanks to Tasty Cheez for pointing this out to me. Enjoy!**

**(I'm using Arial font, now, it seems easier to read)**

**Taku Nandaba**

You know about adrenaline rushes, right? The kind where you get that burst of what feels like liquid fire through your veins, and all the light gets brighter? Where you feel almost indestructible, but at the same time you feel like you might pass out if you don't sit down?

If you don't, I apologize. I wouldn't wish it on anyone, cause I felt _sick_.

I was staring at a door, with paint cracked from the constant glare of the sun, that had the number **32** emblazoned on it. It wasn't the number that scared me, it wasn't the door, it wasn't the house that it was attached to. It wasn't anything in the yard, it wasn't anything in the neighbors yard, and it especially wasn't the way my stomach seemed to be riding a hamster wheel inside of itself.

It wasn't any of those things, but it was something else...A certain, black-haired, sarcastic girl I'd last seen some six or so years ago. I don't even remember the exact time, because once someone leaves Mabase, the city seems to have forgotten them. As if they were nothing more than faces advertised on billboards, billboards with personalities and color that you notice only when you look at them, but once they're gone, you can't remember much...

I can remember when Haruko left, of course, but Haruko was Haruko. I don't think it was _possible_ to forget her.

Anyway, this door was nothing really special. It was just some _door_, with purple paint and these weird designs molded around the edges of it. It was, like I said, nothing special.

It what was _behind_ this door that frightened me. So I wanted to run away, I wanted to turn around, walk back to my vespa and leave this house behind, and come back when I didn't feel like so much of a wuss.

I turned to do just that, when the door opened.

Ninamori Eri stood there, six years older, and looking every bit more beautiful from the passing time. My voice caught in my throat, and I almost started choking. For a minute I sounded as if I was going to have an asthmatic seizure—her eyes widened at first—and then she said, her first words to me since so long.

"Can I help you?" She brushed her hair behind her head in a preoccupied way. It was obvious she didn't expect anyone. Or recognize me, for that matter.

_How much have I changed in six years?_

I cleared my throat, just like I was a kid again, and struggled to speak. Apparently, me spending months planning to leave Mabase and find my friends compared nothing to the actual effort of once I got to that point.

Ninamori gave me a suspicious look, and went to shut the door. "Bye."

I thrust my hand out at it, stopping it from from shutting without really being aware of what I was doing.  
"Wait!" I cleared my throat again, and forced my voice to work. "I need to talk to you."

Ninamori stepped back from the door, her eyes settling everywhere but on me, and her hands fidgeting behind her. Her eyes were fearful, even if her face showed little expression. The same as they had when I'd last seen her, that night at the fair.

Her eyes showed all the emotion, and what I saw scared me. I saw fear, pain, anger, and an underlying beam of defiance, a small sliver of what made Ninamori herself and nobody else.

"Are you Ninamori Eri?" I asked, thanking my vocal chords for performing their job. Still, I sounded like I smoked four packs a day. A rough growl that you'd hear in a back alley, usually with the smell of beer and a knife.

She looked me over, once, her face showing confusion, her face scrutinizing. "Yeah, why?"

I sighed, dropping my hand to my side, and she left the door open. "Thank _God." _I said, and smiled. "I was hoping I'd find you, so I wouldn't have to travel across half the freaking _city._ Which, in retrospect, I'd already done.

Her eyes showed wonder now, and the slightest hint of familiarity. She stepped closer to me , this time, and her voice dropped nearly to a whisper. She looked at me, dead in the eyes as I got the ever-familiar "Black Hole" Feeling, again, and she whispered. "Naota?"

I smiled at her. "It's Taku." I stepped away from her, and she beckoned me forwards. I took three steps, and then fell backwards as she slammed the door in my face.

"_Ow!" _I lay on her front walk, wondering what I'd done. "Ninamori! What did I do?"

She didn't reply. There were a few loud, banging sounds, and then I heard her say "FUCK YOU!"

_Okay, obviously she isn't too happy to see me._

I stood up, brushed myself off and restored as much of my dignity as possible. "Ninamori, damnit, I didn't drive halfway across this miserable city just to have you slam the door in my face! Now open up, or I'll smash it down!"

She didn't reply, so I reading my guitar at my side—It never left my back—and I prepared to swing it into her front door. "THREE...TWO...ONE...!"

WHAMMMMM!

I hadn't hit the door. It took me a few moments to realize this, until I was staring into her living room.

Ninamori Eri stood before me, tears pouring down her face as she beamed at me. Her hair was longer, her body had developed into womanhood with the grace of a dove, and the smile she had on her was enough to knock anyone senseless.

_If Haruko were here, she'd probably be a little jealous._ I thought wryly, staring at the weeping figure before me. She said, in a voice that was both ecstatic and incredibly sad at the same time. "Come in, Taku. Come in."

I stepped into her home, and she closed the door behind me.

The first thing I noticed were her eyes. I know I already commented on this before, but they were sad. They were sort of like the eyes Mamimi had on her when she'd realized Tasuku wasn't coming back from America. The kind of eyes that you'd see on small children who'd lost a parent, and finally were old enough to realize it. They seemed to say, _It hurts, but damned if I'm not going to get through it._

But that was Ninamori for ya, she kept most of her feeling so hidden from the world sometimes, it was like she didn't really _have_ any.

Until she had her arms wrapped around your neck, and was sobbing uncontrollably into your shoulder, leaving you absolutely clueless as to why.

Yeah, until that.

I stood there as she cried, too surprised to say anything, too frightened to move away, so I did the next best possible thing.

I patted her on the back, whispering what I though were consoling words into her ears. Had she really missed me _this_ much? Had she really? I honestly couldn't see Ninamori sobbing into me, something like a scene off of _Gone with the Wind_, while I held her and tried to calm her down. I really didn't think it was because of _me_ that she was crying. I just didn't.

But I couldn't make any better guesses, so I blamed the whole damned thing on Mabase. It seemed the easiest thing to do. Just blame it on Mabase, cause Mabase's always guilty until proven innocent.

She released me, still beaming, sniffing every few seconds. It was actually kind of funny how someone's eyes could be red and puffy, and her normally pale face be flushed and _still_ look pretty.

"Are you okay?" I asked her, more worried than alarmed. I held for gaze for a few moments, and she nodded towards me saying. "Yes, I'm fine, Taku." (She paused to wipe an eye) "Just fine."

I smiled at her, unsure of what to say now that I knew she was actually all right, and not contemplating suicide, or my murder. "Ummm..." I looked around her house, which was actually quite pretty, and said. "So...How long's it been?"

"Six years." She grinned at me. "I said you could come with me, but you never did."

I shrugged. "Leaving Mabase was a pain in the ass. I hope I never have to do it, again."

"So you wouldn't go back?"

I shook my head. "Never." I looked at her. "I _hate_ that place, but it was like my _life_ was in that city. Like it took something from me that I can't get back."

"You've been watching too many soaps, Naota."

I didn't correct her on the name. I laughed, instead. She smiled at me, and stared giggling herself, and pretty soon we were both caught in one of those insane giggling fits where you can't stop for breath, and that's what makes it all the funnier. I had just about fallen to my knees when I managed to gasp out--

"Why—_Why_ are we laughing?" My vision was blurring and I was on the verge of falling on my face. Ninamori was shaking her head from side to side, positively _struggling_ for breath while she tried for an answer. It came with a gust of breath and several attempts at

"I-I don't _know!"_ She leaned forwards, her hands holding her sides as she half-grimaced in mingled hilarity and pain. She fell back against a reclining chair, her face flushed and her hair askew, grin wicked, and said. "I don't think I've laughed that hard in years, Taku." She smiled at me, but a fraction of the lunatic grin still lingered on her face. "Thank you, for that."

I grunted in reply, staring at the floor, wrought with disbelief that this was the same girl I used to know. I sat up, giggled once more (I winced and touched my sides momentarily) And smiled back at her. "No problem, Ninamori." I sighed and stared out a window, at the vespa idling on the street that was empty.

"I've spent what seems like an eternity trying to get out of that City. Now that I'm gone, I really don't know what to do, from here."

She frowned, looked at me suggestively. "Why don't you stay here, with me?" She motioned to the home itself "I _did_ say that you could come and stay with me once you left Mabase, didn't I?" She grinned. "Why don't you take me up on that offer, Naota?"

I shook my head. "I've still got to find Mamimi and Haruko, first." Her smile dropped for a minute, and then her mouth opened, but I silenced her with a "And _then_ I'll stay with you, here."

Her eyes held something I'd never seen before. Half deep compassion, half agonizing sadness. "You promise?"

She sounded less like an adult and more like a little kid when she said that. I think she realized it, and that she knew I had, but I also thing she knew that she didn't care.

"Yeah, I promise." I looked at her once more time, the grown-up version of the girl I used to call my best friend. A stranger with whom I once spent my life.

She smiled. "Off we go, then."

I wanted to argue, but she'd hear none of it. She simply looked at me, holding me into place with those freaking _abyssal_ eyes, until I relented.

Maybe I wanted her to come along, anyway. After all, her eyes _were_ always the same as mine.


	5. Fooly Cooly

**Next Chapter up, and as before, I've noted the Character names.  
Enjoy!**

**(I don't own this show)**

"_Sing is a song, you're the Piano Man, sing us a song, tonight._

_'Cause we're all in the mood for a melody, and you've got us feelin' all right."_

Billy Joel, how ironic.

**3rd Person**

_The bar smelled exactly like life. _For them, anyway. A mixture of smoke, alcohol, and badly-bathed people. The lights were low, the music was loud—surely enough the poor bastard that had put Billy Joel on the juke was now picking his teeth up from the bathroom floor—and the people were in a state of total disrepair. All around her, screaming bodies occupied space that could have been used for something much more useful, somethingmore _efficient_, but sometimes it can be theorized that even God runs out of ideas, and He decided to populate the space around her with earsplitting rednecks, instead.

_I thought you didn't even get Rednecks in Japan!_ Thought Haruko, over the din of the clamorous crowd. Up in front of her, a mere ten or eleven inches away, several girls danced upon the bar, clearly drunk, and were blowing kisses and smoke rings about themselves as their adoring public screamed for more. They always obliged, their choice of moves becoming more and more obscene as the minutes ticked by, until one of the girls decided to make a rather daring—and stupid—move, and threw her top down to the people below, who reverted to less-than-primal instincts at the acceptance of her gift.

Haruko scowled, ducking her head a little lower, and concentrated on her vodka. She stared into the depths of the amber liquid, trying to block out the noise around her, until disgusted, she stood up.

_Of all the freaking places to hide out, I just had to choose here. Of all the bars in Japan, I guess I had to pick the one where all Hell was going to break loose._

Haruko knew that humans went insane when in the presence of alcohol—Taku's father had proven this enough times to her—and even more so when there were pretty girls within the vicinity. (In the case of Taku's father, _she_ had been this alleged pretty girl) But she couldn't excuse them for this madness that they were doing, now.

Hell, if she wanted to see _this_, she might as well go rent one of those uncensored _Jerry Springer_ videos.

But she guessed that this place would be best to lay low at. She guessed this would be the best place to duck her head safely under Medical Mechanica's ever-watchful eyes. Who would guess that an outlaw that was wanted in over twenty different galaxies would be hiding out at this low-level earth bar?

Maybe the _Terra_ police, but certainly not the MM Death Squads. Haruko would be safe here, as long as she didn't bring attention to herself, or cause a large amount of trouble. She had no problem with the first part—the entire _idea_ of being an outlaw was secrecy—but the second part...Well, it would not be far from accurate to say that trouble was draped over her like a shadow.

_Maybe so, but at least I refused the name tag_. She thought, grinning as the situation around her escalated into higher and higher levels of Chaos. Perhaps, even if she _didn't_ cause any trouble, Medical Mechanica would be here to check the place out simply because of _noise factor._

She sighed, took another drink, and glanced at the bracelet on her wrist. I had not jangled for years, it was just another testament of how far she was away from anything that mattered to her. From Mabase, from Medical Mechanica, from Takkun...

She blew air out through her nose, downed the last bit of vodka in the glass, and stared at the couple beside her as they thrashed around in a seat scarcely big enough for one. They looked like a pair of eels performing a rather complex mating ritual.

The man looked up, all bloodshot eyes and yellowed teeth. He leered at her, and she managed a small smile in return. She turned her head away, but he spoke to her.

"Wanna turn, little lady?" He presented her with what he thought was a winning smile, and Haruko couldn't help but notice the week-old food that was jammed there.

She shook her head, "No thanks." And tossed her glass away, in disgust. That was another factor that she hadn't counted on, here. Her _looks_, she figured that all the guys present would be too wasted to pay her any attention, or busy eating his date's face—as the couple beside her had resumed doing—but she had been wrong. _Every _guy had made a pass at her, at _least_ once, and none of them seemed ready to give up, either. She tried to seem taken, but she wasn't sure how to play the part, as most men that had loved her were either dead, or somewhere in a prison.

Most of them, anyway.

So there she sat, watching the humans with varying levels of curiosity and disgust, until a large, foul-smelling body landed on top of her, and began running his fingers through her hair. "Hey, pretty lady," Said the drunk--and his speech was miraculously clear--"Didja miss me?"

Haruko was at first too shocked to do anything. When the man tried to stick his tongue in her mouth, she did the first thing that came to her mind.

She bit down. Hard.

He screamed, yanking himself back as his tongue made an ominous _RIPPPP _ sound, and fell backwards, knocking over the couple beside her. She stood up, all five-foot nine-and-something inches of her, guitar in hand, while the rest of the bar looked on in amusement. The drunk rose up like some minor God of foul behavior, and threw a punch that would have snapped her neck.

He flew through the bar doors a moment later.

The couple she had spilled via drunk was advancing on her, and she gave them a questioning look, along with a raise of her guitar, which they ignored. Both the Drunk and his Date were unconscious on the floor a split second later.

"Probably would have ended up that way, anyway." She mumbled, as she stared at the motionless pair. She failed to realize that the other occupants of the bar now _also_ wanted a piece of her, and she was engulfed in bodies like eight kids on a seven-slice pizza less than a minute later.

She gasped for breath, digging her nails into whatever she touched, biting anything within reach. _"Damn"_

**Taku Nandaba  
**There it was. It was unmistakable. The yellow vespa that was owned by the reason he had left Mabase, and also the reason why it had been destroyed. The reason why his father had left, why he felt like forty instead of twenty-one, why he used to wake up, screaming in crying in the middle of the night, gasping for breath and chanting a name as if it was a spell that could save his sanity.

_**Haruko...**_

Yeah, that was it. The vehicle of Haruko Haruhara. The paint was slightly faded, it needed a wash, but the details were still the same. That tail-light with the small paint streak on it, the tire treads that looked like double helixes and—although he couldn't see it—the infamous **P!** Sticker just below her left headlight.

Taku stopped and stared. Ninamori poked her head over his shoulder, trying to see what he did.  
"What's up?"

He started, glanced at her from the corner of his eye, and smiled. "This is it."

Holding hands—Taku out of nervousness, Ninamori out of affection—they went in.

**Haruko Haruhara  
The smell was overwhelming.** Before this moment I did not know that the stench of about fife thousand or so dumpsters could be compared to that of a bunch of sweaty Rednecks.

Again, I was wrong. I stopped punching whomever was beside me _just_ long enough to look at my bracelet. The metal attachment was shifting slightly, as if caught in a slight breeze. My mouth opened, and I inhaled someone's shirt.

_If that thing's ringing, that must mean--_

Medical Mechanica. Oh, damn.

**Taku Nandaba  
**Ninamori and I stepped through the doors of the bar to find a dogpile of people atop what seemed to be a human being. This wasn't a college bar, so it wasn't anything to do with a football team, and besides, _nobody was painted in any colors._

Billy Joel blared through the jukebox, coming to the end of "Piano Man" As I drew my guitar. I said a quiet "Sit down" To Ninamori—she refused at first, but I held her down until she promised—and started toward the people that were stacked up like so many sweaty _Jenga_ pieces.

I knew what was at the bottom of that pile...

_**CRUNCH!** _The first body made a rather grotesque sound as I slammed the Rickenbacker into the body until it moved aside. I continued doing this until I had most of the pile on the floor. I worked in a frenzy, absolutely Hell-bent on freeing Haruko from the grasp of a bunch of drunkards. She wouldn't suffocate after I damn near almost _died_ after looking for her the first time.

It was about to be my _seek_, of her _hide_ and _seek._

Haruko sat up, smiling, as I threw off the last moron from her body. She simply kicked the other out from around her until she had sufficient room to stand up, smoothed her vest down—still red, as I remembered—and smiled a razor-toothed grin at me in the middle of an unconscious pile.

She had _really_ sharp canines. She kept smiling, gave me a hug, and laughed as I swung her around a few times, simply because I felt like it. I set her down, even if she was only a few inches under me, and asked her.

"Friends of yours?"

She smiled, about to reply, when we realized we were both surrounded by angry rednecks. I looked at her, she looked at me, and we both nodded.

Fooly Cooly, biatch.

**For the next five minutes, the bar was the scene of a war, and a hideously one-sided one. Haruko and Taku practically _annihilated_ whoever got in their way as they swing their guitars in a concerto of battle-yells, drunken groans, and various insults concerning the beaten's mothers. The destructive duo had no opposition in that fight—actually, after a brief time they rednecks were running out the door in fear—and they showed no mercy, either. There was not a body that went unscathed as the guitars calmly cast aside their labels as musical instruments and took on the ones they had forgotten so long ago, as weapons.**

**Devices for inflicting pain, anguish, and sometimes giant robots from the afflicted's cranium. There _were_ no giant robots as a result of this attack, but if this fic wasn't firmly rated "T" There _would_ have been a few brain splatters.**

**Let's leave those images to imagination, shall we? We see very little blood in FLCL...**

**Taku and Haruko eventually wound down to a stop, breathless, grinning madly, and seemingly unaware of the destruction—some $75,000 dollars—as they stopped.**

Taku placed his guitar upon his back after Haruko had refused it, saying "It's _yours,_ man. I couldn't even do that with that guitar!" And sighed. He didn't notice the one final man crawling slowly towards Ninamori, who was perched on her seat, staring idly at the ceiling, until--

**CLANG!**

Taku gave the man a short-time trip into dreamland, as the guitar cleared the room, colliding with his head.

He picked it up off the floor, examined it, smiled, and asked Ninamori. "You okay?"

She grinned at him. "Yeah, I'm fine." She pointed at the drunk lying at her feet, whom she kicked rather forcefully with her left. "I think _he_ was until you decided to bounce an E-minor off the side of his head."

Taku stared at her.

"That's the sound it made when it hit him." she gave him a stern look. "I've heard you play before, remember?"

He didn't, but Ninamori rarely lied. Taku grabbed her hand, grabbed Haruko—who was performing a jig upon the back of one of the fallen—and walked them towards the door of the bar, which was now silent, save for it playing **Huey Louis's **_**"Heart of Rock and Roll"**_as they left.

They left the bar in silence, exactly as they had come.


End file.
